


bee

by Papaveri



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: F/F, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 19:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papaveri/pseuds/Papaveri
Summary: When Faye rethinks her position on the war and joins Celica's following, she comes to understand something new about her and her role.As a friend, as a participant, as someone who waits and expects.





	bee

(“Don't you write home, Faye?”

“I… just don't think I have a lot to say. I don't want to write about our battles and worry everyone, and I can't tell them about Alm and the others either. I only want to talk about things I like, I guess.”

The candle light flickers.

“Then why don't you write about yourself?”)

 

***

 

**F** aye regrets not having gone with Alm when she turns back and finds that Ram is not visible anymore, in the distance. Looking at the line of the horizon, looming and flat like the edge of a blade, she remembers Gray's words.

“You sure you're okay staying?”

“I will! I will be. I'm more worried about you.”

And there was a silent understanding between them, the oldest in the group: as long as one of them was with the others, it would be fine. What stung the most was Kliff's last glance to her, worried.

_You're a child_ , Faye thought. _You're a kid who shouldn't worry_ , because worrying is what older friends, what waiting ladies do, hands busy with the life of the village, with needle and thread and farm utensils. It's something that doesn't leave any room for holding weapons, and Kliff will have to-- Faye doesn't want to think about that.

(Worrying also turns into a weird powerlessness, black in the pit of her stomach. She works too hard on her chores, breaks dishes and tears cloth.)

Celica's familiar red hair appears on Ram like the sunrise and stays near her, but her following blocks those strands from Faye's sight and while the powerlessness recedes with every step, because she's taking action, she's taking action, the sensation inside her that turns into uncontrolled strength doesn't dissipate, and it scares her.

When she thinks about Alm and how he saved her, she can only remember his hands on her and nothing else. Alm must have felt what she's feeling now, since he was only a child, yes, but so steadfast, so different from the rest, she thinks. If Alm felt it, it can't be that scary. If it guides her hand, it's good.

 

 

**B** attles are an ugly business, Faye discovers. She was in one when she was a child, and although she's grown and she fights with a bow, keeping away from the actual front lines, the enemy swords look as big as they did back then. With time, however, Faye realizes they seem to shrink; they look like bad and misshapen older sisters of her own hunting knife.

When the fighting is over, Faye turns it in her hands. Celica tries to teach her healing magic: she lets her hold onto it (a familiar item) before going on to the staves experienced magicians can use.

“Magic can burn your hands if there isn't anything between you and your weapon,” she says. “I'll find you some gloves to wear.”

Celica, who left the village when she was young, has some kind of glow that doesn't give under the grime of battle, too strong to be a mere reflection of the flames she summons between her fingers, a gentle light in her eyes.

(You need to be in complete control of yourself to use magic, so Celica surely doesn't feel she has to push herself to her limit. Faye doesn't talk about it with her, and she feels she wouldn't understand.)

Faye only has slightly burnt hands, but there's a comfort in basking under the shine of brilliant friends. When Celica goes back to the tome she's using to teach her, she remembers the thrill of waiting for Alm to rescue her when she played captive with everyone; but there's something else.

 

 

**C** elica's glow doesn't falter against the harsh lines that mark her face after talking to Alm. Faye, however, doesn't take a side: her heart remembers Ram when she hears Tobin's voice again, when Gray pats her back and when Kliff sighs when he first sees her, yet she follows Celica.

“Are you sure?”, she says, less gentle than Faye imagined. “It's not going to be easy, Faye. I can help you back home.”

“No, no! I would… I don't think I'd rest easy, knowing you're out there.”

Faye thinks she'll never really accept the fighting, that her hands will never grow steady, and she prefers showing those trembling fingers and pale skin to someone that can uncurl her fists with a warm touch.

She thinks, _ah, I can't just go back now, I'd wilt with worry._

She thinks, _ah, I just don't want Alm to see me like that._

She misses him. She catches a glimpse of him in the castle, and her whole body trembles, and something lights up inside her; _would I still like him, after washing blood off his armor._

When she tells Celica, half-asleep and tired after an earthquake and magic practice, her eyes darken.

“I don't think you would,” she says. “I don't think I...”

Celica and Faye wash their own clothes, together. Faye notices the deep mark of her collarbones on the base of her neck, visible at night under the candlelight, and there's something of Ram on them, something from there and something completely new.

 

***

 

(“They already know about me! That would be boring.”

“Well, tell them that you're okay. Wasn't that your first earthquake back there? Your first fights?”

The hand Faye can move trembles a bit.

“Those aren't nice, though.”

“I mean, you... handled them very well?”)

 

***

 

**T** he earthquake makes the earth crack; it sounds so heavy, so surreal, but not big enough to drown the echoes of Alm's voice, raised higher than Faye had ever heard before; so was Celica's.

But those voices didn't sound like they belong with the girl who is holding onto her arm to look at the broken land. Faye remembers that, despite her glow and her steady back, despite the good five centimeters she has on her, Celica is younger than she is.

The soft hand on her arm is a bridge. She needs it to adjust her view of the world; she's so used to looking up that lowering her gaze to her side is dizzying.

 

 

**F** aye's looking at the dilapidated ceiling of the Temple of Mila. Blood has a hard time reaching her brain: her arm snapped at the dying spell of an enemy mage that got close enough to her, and her body seems more focused on the wound that on keeping her awake.

Celica, at her side, holds her hand.

(They tried helping each other, she thinks? An arrow, a quick bolt of lighting, each of them a gift for the other that can't be appreciated because it lasts a moment only and it buys a moment only, in the middle of battle. They saved each other, she thinks. 'Save' is such a big word when you're not only on the receiving end of it, impossibly heavy when you share it.)

Faye's whole conscience goes to that warm hand of hers. She's so, so scared, but that hand is there like a dam for her fears.

“Milady! Lady Celica!”

“I'm fine, Boey.”

She can't be; Faye is sure the blood pooling between them is from the both of them. She tries saying so but only a weak yelp comes out.

When people gather around her, and Celica smiles at her while clutching the crimson in the midsection of her otherwise white dress, her arm draped around Mae's shoulder, Faye breaks down crying.

 

***

 

(“You handled them better.” At least Celica can sit up and do things, even if slowly. Faye tilts her head in her pillow. The candlelight is different on Celica's skin; Faye thinks she likes that gentle color better than the bright shine of magic. “Hey. Can I write about you?”

Celica blinks, and then she nods.

Words move from her mouth to Celica's hand to the paper.

 

_Dear Father,_

 

_Do you remember my friend Celica?_ )

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a zine that was cancelled - however I've seen so many works from it, and so nice, that it's hard to say it was truly unsuccessful. 
> 
> Since it was for that, I refrained from going too canon divergent, so this ended up being very tame. I wanted to do something with Faye coming to realize her feelings have shifted from Alm to another person... Going over this, I think I could have been more explicit, but it would also have to be way longer. I have to say, though, that I like the atmosphere I managed for this! So I didn't want to change it too much...
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please check me at spettramanti on Twitter for more fic and updates!


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